


Monday, and all of the days after that

by aberm



Category: Friday the 13th: The Game (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Other counselors mentioned, Post-Canon, alternative universe, i guess, so Deborah is definitely bisexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aberm/pseuds/aberm
Summary: Deborah Kim managed to survive the most horrific experience ever imaginable. Now she copes. Post-Friday the 13th.





	Monday, and all of the days after that

**Author's Note:**

> I planned this fic months ago. I wrote it all within the last couple of days. With that being said, this is utter garbage lmao. 
> 
> Here's my explanation: In the Jarvis Residence Intro, we see Tiffany dancing. You know who else we see? Deborah Kim sitting and watching her, along with the other boys who are watching her too. Ahem. As a gay person, that is prime gay. I also enjoy the idea of Deb and Tommy together, so to satisfy both needs, Deb is bisexual. 
> 
> I dedicate this to Littlemissgeek8 on Tumblr who wrote a wonderful Tomorah fic and draws fantastic artwork of the two!!! She's the reason I even ship this!! Also!!! This fic is 100% inspired by hers, so y'all should definitely read that too :)

**PART I**

_Camp Crystal Lake  
1979_

There's an intense beat before Jason Vorhees finally sinks onto his knees directly in front of Deborah Kim, the shy girl that's apparently not shy enough as she adorns Pamela Vorhees' tattered sweater and stands tall and fearless before the ax-wielding masked murderer. Tommy Jarvis pulls a machete out of Jason's punctured skull that he previously struck him with and takes a small step back for cautious measure. The two survivors observe carefully as Jason face plants onto the ground, a significant thud echoing throughout the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. Not a single thing moves, not even the grass or the leaves when a silent breeze caresses Deborah's stunned face. 

A few moments flutter by, and the 19-year-old counselor--former counselor?--relieves a shaky sigh. Jason Vorhees lays still and motionless. She glances from the killer's body to the man who responded to her distress call over the radio earlier in the night. The man who, regardless of knowing exactly what they were up against, still raced to the camp prepared with a loaded shotgun, a single pocketknife, and a med spray, absolutely willing to aid and rescue anyone who needed it. And boy, did Deborah really need it. She meant to say thanks right about now, but instead, she asks a question that even he may not know the answer to. 

"Is he...dead?" 

Tommy doesn't look away from his own guarded focus of the burly body, but he lets out a breath and answers her. 

"Yes, he should be--I mean," he sighs again. "Yes." 

Deborah doesn't press forward and lets Tommy take a few more moments to collect himself and his thoughts. She pans around at what's left of the camp, seeing multiple shattered windows and a barrage of broken down doors. Her eyes land on the last image she would ever want to be engraved in her mind for the rest of her life: Tiffany Cox laying lifelessly in a small pool of her own blood just a few yards away from where they are standing. 

Right before they surprisingly managed to take down Jason Vorhees, Tiffany was desperately trying to drag Deborah back to the working 4 seater that she herself had fixed up, but Deborah had already been wearing the filthy grey sweater and Tommy had already been clutching the machete in his hands and their plan had already been in motion. All they needed was for Jason to show up. And he did. And when he did, he gripped Tiffany's pink crop top. And as she wriggled mercilessly, he forced his large, iron-like fingers into her mouth and ripped her jaw in half as if he were ripping a page out of a book. All while Deborah screamed and cried and begged for him to let her go. 

And then she had had enough. 

Deborah Kim--the same girl who took better care of her books and her friends than she ever did herself, the girl who sobbed over losing and then accidentally stepping on her last pair of glasses, the girl who had to cover her eyes when they put on a monster movie during the traditional Girls Only sleepover before moving onto the camp-- _that_ Deborah Kim, marched right up to the monster himself and stared him down with flaming eyes and challenged him. All of this without knowing for certain if this sweater thing was even going to work. It had been pure adrenaline, perhaps a temporary rage fog or something, because she was done and he killed almost all of her friends and nothing else mattered more than him needing to know that she wasn't going to die while cowering in his presence. If she was going to die, she was going to die while showing him no fear and no satisfaction. 

(Afterwards, she _is_ insanely grateful that the sweater thing _did_ work and she can actually live.)

Deborah suddenly hears light gravel crunching underneath soles of shoes, and for a moment she imagines that Jason had gotten back up and is on his way to chop her head clean off, but then she feels a slight grasp on her shoulder. 

"Hey," it's Tommy's soft voice, so she looks over to find him looking at her, concern etched into his furrowed brows. "We should get out of here. Find that car and get to the police station," he moves his hand to let it hover over Deborah's cheek, inspecting the bruise and deep gash that resides there for now. "And then to a hospital." 

She nods and follows after him as he sets out towards the way of the 4 seater that should still be parked right out front of the main lodge. She steals one last glance behind her--at Jason's body, then at Tiffany's--and jogs a little to catch up with Tommy. 

...

"Sorry, I have some of what your friend was telling me about earlier, I may be mixing the two of you's up. Mind starting from the beginning again?" 

Deborah tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sighs in pure frustration. 

They're in the police station about a mile from the camp now, but where the hell are the police? Sitting before them is a single officer, and he barely looks older than Tommy. Before Deborah decides to indulge the officer again with her account of the night, Tommy leans in and addresses him on her behalf. 

"Okay, I'm sorry, but she's already told you what happened from the beginning, what more do you want her to say?" Tommy says, clearly just as exasperated with this situation. She appreciates Tommy's sensitivity to her traumatic experience being shared out loud again, but she needs the police to believe them and help them, and good kind of helping from the police stems from a good relationship with the police, as terrible as that sounds. Apparently, Tommy doesn't really have a good relationship with the police, but that's a history to learn about another time. 

"Listen here, Jarvis," the officer sneers at Tommy, a clear warning in his tone. "I don't give a shit that she already told me. I need her to repeat it. We need this down for the record, or would y'all rather I rip this up and tell y'all both to beat it?" 

"No, officer, sir, _please_ ," Deborah is near begging at this point. This isn't going so well. She just wants to report this so the police can go to the scene and...she closes her eyes for a brief moment and thinks about them. For them, she can put up with this shit. 

"Yes, I'll start from the beginning again. But please believe us." 

The officer stares. He stares and all he sees is a terrified, exhausted young woman, with clear lacerations and bruises decorating her face, neck and hands, nearly brown-colored blood stains on her white wool sweater, hair matted and unkempt, glasses slightly askew, voice somewhat hoarse and parched, likely from screaming. He sees all of this, takes note and softens his glare.

"I already do. Now, whenever you're ready Miss, I'm all ears." 

...

Earlier in the night, prior to things truly getting out of hand, only two managed to escape with the two-seater car way before Deborah and Tommy even formulated their last resort plan to stop Jason. 

When Deborah and Tommy were escorted to the hospital after giving several accounts of what occurred back at Camp Crystal Lake, they were greeted by the only two other lucky survivors, A.J. Mason and Chad Kensington. 

The purple highlighted girl is the first to step right up to Deborah and pull her into a fiercely strong hug, releasing content-filled sighs of relief. "Debbie, thank God," she murmurs near the shell of Deborah's ear, who awkwardly but tightly squeezes back as if returning the statement. The two, although never being too close, made great connections over the years of high school and some college that led to even, amicable grounds and general bonding. They were nice and friendly; nothing too much, nothing too less. Despite the two being close opposites, A.J. is a seemingly brooding, albeit caring girl that happens to tolerate Deborah's company and bites the heads of anyone who berates her. Deborah is grateful to feel the other counselor and see her alive and well. 

(Her heart thuds harshly as she thinks of the soft, glossy lips of another.) 

Chad sneaks up from behind A.J. and pokes Deborah's arm. "We all get hugs, yeah?" The way Chad quivers catches Deborah off guard and she is a little surprised to hear and see Chad so small. Usually, he is the entire mood of the party. Loud, exceptionally obnoxious, weirdly charming, unsuspectingly sincere and disgustingly rich. Chad is not small and does not quiver. 

Tonight is certainly a night of rawness and vulnerability. Real world, near death stuff that brings out the strangeness and unfamiliarity. 

Deborah falls out of hug with A.J. and then snakes her arms over Chad's back, his taller stature forcing him to lean down and bury his face into her shoulder, inhaling and exhaling to steady his hammering heart. 

"I can't believe someone else made it, I was really beginning to give up hope," he says, hot breath spilling down Deborah's neck. "I'm so happy to see you. And whoever the hell you are." Chad picks his head up and looks to Tommy, who's stayed behind to respectfully watch the reunion before him. 

Deborah pulls away. "This is Tommy. Tommy Jarvis. He answered my radio call, I thought I told...one of you this?" 

A.J. nods her head. "You told me. Nice to see you, man." She says to him, a serious, almost standoffish face presenting itself. The look catches Tommy's attention and he can't help but wonder that maybe she wishes she saw her boyfriend--biker jacket, blue jeans, sweet kiss and declaration of love--with Deborah here at the hospital instead of him. He doesn't want to blame her for the wish. Maybe he would have wished the same if he were in her shoes. 

A.J. hesitates for several seconds, sadly looking over Deborah's injuries, and sucks in a breath of her own before opening her mouth to ask the inevitable. "So, the others..." 

The bespectacled girl gives a slight wince and a forlorn expression in response, confirming Chad and A.J.'s frightening suspicions. No one besides them had made it out alive. 

Chad sits down in one of the many available chairs in the waiting room, bringing his hands up to rub over his face in distress. Most of them: gone. And here he is: alive. How dare he be alive right now? How dare any of them being alive? How dare that Jason Vorhees coming about and killing his friends? Buggzy? Kenny? Jenny? Vanessa? _Even Lachappa?_ How dare he?! He jumps a little at the sudden feel of a soft hand running over his shoulder blades. He peeks through his fingers to find A.J. right next to him, perched on the arm of his chair, and speaking lowly with Deborah, while that Tommy guy hovers closely behind her. He's almost too preoccupied with dark thoughts of his lost friends to think about how weird that guy is standing so close to Deb, nearly touching her backside. Almost. He makes a note to bring this up with A.J. later; certainly, she would have something to say about this. He faintly hears Tiffany's name being mentioned in particular, and he's glad he doesn't have to strain to hear the rest of this conversation. 

"I'm really sorry, Deb. I know for a fact she went crazy looking for you when we all got split up the first time," A.J. tentatively reaches her other hand out to hold Deborah's shaking ones. 

"I know. I know." 

They stop talking for a while and just rest in a welcome calming quiet. 

... 

A.J. offers Deborah a place to spend the rest of the night/morning, because as it turns out, A.J. has an aunt that lives just outside of town, and is more than happy to allow her niece, and anybody else who needs it, space. 

Deborah ends up declining because the police had given her the time and opportunity to call her parents who live halfway across the state, but they are willing to drive at the speed of light to get to their daughter after the summarized ordeal she revealed to them over the phone. They're so protective and doting like that. She does come from a rather close and conservative Korean family--despite herself identifying as more liberal and a little detached from them, or at least, from her father. It may stem from the fact that he wanted finally for his third and last child to be a boy, but ended up with another girl. He still loves her immensely, of course, but he may like to talk about Diana or about Janet more often than he would like to talk about her. Or, maybe that is because she has merely graduated from high school and the only other exciting thing about her is that she took her seasonal job as a camp counselor for the second year in a row. Diana has just finished grad school and Janet is getting married soon, so what in the world has Deborah been up to to top any of that? Well, now she has barely escaped a massacre; so there's that. 

When Deborah's parents do finally show up, they aren't excited to accept that experience as toping anything. Instead, Deborah's mother showers her with hugs and kisses and Korean sentiments while her father repeats this when come his turn (but instead of sentiments, he just curses a lot in Korean). Again, Tommy observes this exchange with interest, happy to see Deborah safe and with her family. 

"Oh, honey, my sweet, sweet baby! nae agi!" Mrs. Kim continues to smother her daughter in her arms, running her hand through her hair, stroking both of her cheeks, like any worried mother would do for their child after a terrifying event. 

"Ma, ma, please," Deborah lets out a breathy chuckle, gently grasping her mothers' wrists and coaxing her to let go of her face for some much-needed room. "I'm okay. I'm fine," she assures her. 

"Are you positive?" Her father inquires, looking her over for any signs of hidden, major injuries. 

"Yes, yes, I am positive, dad." 

"Yeah? Then let's go. We're not coming back here, not ever again, come on," he says matter of factly, reaching for Deborah's arm, guiding her out of the hospital waiting room. 

"Wait a minute..." Deborah looks back at Tommy helplessly, struggling out of her fathers iron locked grip. "Hold on! I have to say goodbye--" she was interrupted by his grunt of impatience, but also perhaps a little bit of confusion, too. 

Deborah nods her head towards the young man--the only other being in that room--and slowly walks over to him. Her parents exchange curious looks but allow her to say whatever she has to say. 

Honestly, Tommy expected her to high tail out of town as soon as she got the chance, but he is--dares he say--pleasantly surprised to see her standing sheepishly before him, shy eyes darting about the room and shaking hands trying to settle by her sides. He can see how difficult it is for her to form any words at this moment, so he conjures up some words of his own. 

"Hi Deb, uh," he starts, attempting to catch her wandering gaze with his. "I'm really happy to see your parents here. I mean--seeing them, and they're happy that you're, well, alive," he realizes the amount of tremor in his voice and quickly collects another deep breath before starting again. "Just...I'm really happy to see you're alive. And okay. Yeah..." he trails off lamely, suddenly feeling the need to scratch the back of his neck, hopeful that Deborah could say something now, anything, to diffuse his awkward attempt at a goodbye. Well, certainly he has some hope that this won't be a final goodbye or anything like that. He feels a little silly thinking about that, he having just met this girl tonight and all, but he can almost feel the pull. A traumatizing night protecting each other from a God-like killer all night can do that to you. 

Thankfully, Deborah does speak. 

"I really should be thanking you. You...helped me, when you didn't need to. I can never thank you enough. And..." she blushes a bit at this point. Tommy takes an interested note of it. "And I still want to try...I mean," she looks away again, obviously embarrassed at what she wants to say, but can't. Tommy encourages her with a nod and a slight smile. She stares at his smile. It does give her the courage she needs. 

"I want to see you again." Deborah doesn't allow her eyes to disconnect with his own, doesn't allow her voice to crack or break or stumble, doesn't allow her heart to burst from her chest when he smiles more and seemingly accepts what she has confessed. 

"We can make that work," he says. 

Deborah is suddenly hit with a wash of fatigue, because finally after all night, she doesn't have to fight anymore. She can relax. 

...

It's not until a little over three weeks later that she sees Tommy again. For some odd reason or another, he looks different to her. Not bad different, but just different. _Happier? Calmer? Safer?_

She can't quite put her finger on it. 

What's really strange is that he says exactly what she's thinking, but about her. 

"You look happier," he observes. "It's nice to see you like this." 

Deborah chuckles at his words, not from humor, but for lack of a better reaction to a striking statement like that. She hesitates to offer up her own analysis of his appearance. She settles on sarcasm. 

"Yeah--you look much nicer without the blood, too." She winces inwardly, wondering for a moment if it was too soon to make light of their past situation. But thankfully she sees him smile at her comment, and it gives her the opportunity to release a relieving breath she's been harboring for all of the morning and day before meeting him here. 

They planned this meeting over the phone a week or so ago--a quaint reunion in a small cafe a couple of towns over from the camp. They contemplated inviting A.J. and Chad as well but decided against it eventually. Tommy wanted a chance to see Deborah alone. He was more than happy to come to know that the feeling was mutual. 

They talk about their lives after that night. 

Deborah mentions her sisters, her mother and father, even her grandparents. She doesn't mention yet how many times she's woken up in the dead of night, sweat glistening on her forehead, tears streaming down her cheeks, distant screams echoing in her head. She never knows exactly to whom the screams belong to; sometimes she thinks she hears Vanessa, sometimes Jenny. Other times she thinks of Tiffany. Those nights, in particular, are always the worst. 

Tommy speaks of his own sister. He talks about his responsibilities around the house, his collectibles, and even his dog. He holds off on saying anything about his long, long nights awake, his jumpiness from every little sound, his hesitance to go anywhere without a pocket knife. Sometimes he hears screams, too. That wasn't anything new, but now he hears more than just his parents screams. He hates to acknowledge it, so he forgets it. But only until it happens again. 

Before they know it, they've been talking and looking at each other from across the table of their shared booth for a solid 3 hours. Deborah is the one to notice the time, as she remembers that she actually has a strict curfew: not to be out after it grows too dark to feel safe anymore. Tommy visibly showcases a dejected frown but quickly wipes the expression off in hopes to reassure her. Surely he doesn't want to upset her in any way. 

Tommy drives her home, just as he picked her up. He walks her to the door, just as he retrieved her from the door. 

This time around, he is awash with sudden bravery and leans down to catch Deborah's smooth cheek with his lips. She rewards him a blushing smile. 

Once she is inside she begins to feel a tight pressure within her body, particularly in her stomach. It's not something she can recognize immediately, but when she does, she crashes from her high. 

The trigger: the mental image of a shapely, soft figure with silky hair, sparkling eyes, and a glossy smile. 

The painful tension travels toward her heart, she would describe it. It hurts more than she can say, so she lies down, falls asleep, and dreams of her.

It's the first peaceful sleep she's gotten in a while. 

...

To make a not so interesting nor long story short, Deborah had a thing for Tiffany. A big thing. And surprisingly, even to Deborah herself, Tiffany had a ( _big_ ) thing for her, too. 

The feelings took root last summer when they all worked at the camp for the first year. It was bound to happen really--Tiffany was a beautiful girl, and Deborah couldn't resist her natural charm (Poor Debbie did not have a chance).

Falling for Tiffany was never an unpredictable occurrence or even a remarkable one. The only thing astonishing about the situation was that Tiffany never rejected her. She never turned her down or away or out. And she knew how Deborah felt. It was always painfully obvious to everybody around. Jenny hugged her for what felt like hours when she realized. Vanessa teased her, but it was always in good fun. A.J. didn't have much to say or do about it, but she never bothered her. 

The only person who did give her a hard time was Chad. 

The snooty boy (even more so at the time) taunted her about it mercilessly. Not in a harmless, all-in-good-fun way like Vanessa, but legitimate harsh words and scary stares. Deborah came to find out via Buggzy that Chad also had a major crush on Tiffany. It was...an experience; being on the butt end of Chad's jokes. Thankfully, the only ones who laughed at them were Buggzy and Chad himself. Everybody else didn't appreciate them as those two did. 

Especially Tiffany. 

The morning Tiffany blew up at him and Buggzy for making crude comments towards the bookish girl was the same morning she took Deborah's hand in hers and lead her out of the mess hall (thankfully this was before the children had their scheduled breakfast slot) and down by the lake's shore, where she smiled sincerely at her and leaned in to press her warm and fruity lips against Deborah's. 

What happened immediately afterward, Deborah can't really recall, but she can recall being the happiest she's ever been. The two never truly made anything "official" but Tiffany was always close to her since then. 

Hand holding, cheek kisses, long-lasting hugs. 

It was a typical romantic relationship--just without the label. Deborah always wondered what this meant, always meaning to ask Tiffany about it, but when she noticed the way Tiffany was always so skittish around her own father, well, it did put things into perspective. 

That maybe this was for the best. 

At least Chad stopped bothering her and no one else seemed to care enough about their personal connection to object. 

This year seemed to be a lot more promising than last, with the newly gracious attitude of Chad and the way Tiffany enjoyed pecking her lips more, this would've been the summer to remember. 

Well. It is. 

Deborah has yet to relay all of this to Tommy, someone she's been attaching herself to for weeks now. Someone she can actually see herself with in the future. Tiffany would want her to be happy again. 

Still, she can't help but feel like she's doing something wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Part II may take a whole other year to complete and post tbh.


End file.
